


this one doesn't like being chained up

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Double Agents, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miller's not thrilled about the idea of being a double agent, but he's got to do what he's got to do. Monty's one of the few left who hasn't gone to the City of Light. He and Miller have a lot of work to do if they want things to get back to normal.</p><p>Canon compliant up to 3x05, aka the interactions we deserve</p><p>Drabbles, Miller x Monty</p><p>Title a quote from Miller when he was pretending to be a real asshole to throw the guards off</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so now that it's basically confirmed that Miller's working undercover you know I jumped on that real quick. did anyone else scream when Miller had a speaking line? and then it turned out to be because he was SNEAKING LINCOLN MEDICINE AND INFORMATION? join the club, for I am still screaming. 
> 
> #teampeace

Miller clenched his jaw, watching as Monty paced the hangar. His eyes were somewhere else, frantic as he scanned the room, constantly looking toward the door as though someone was going to burst in. Miller’s chest felt tight. He was angry. He’d never been angrier than he was right now.

First Bellamy decided it was a smart move to kill an entire fucking Grounder army, and then Bryan agreed with him. Miller scrubbed his hand over his face. Miller waited four months for his boyfriend only to find out he’s gone off the deep-end. 

It ended in a shouting match last night. But it’s better that way.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Miller finally grunted, forcing himself to his feet. Monty froze, spinning to look at him. “I’m going to talk to Abby.”

Monty’s pupils blew. “What? Why?”

“Because they’ve fucking locked up Lincoln and those people are going to die in there without medicine.” Miller reached for the guard jacket he tore from his body when he first arrive in the hangar, feeling disgusted to even have it on his body. “Lincoln needs to know Octavia’s safe.” 

Monty moved in Miller’s way as he strode for the door. “If Pike finds out then–”

“Pike’s not gonna find out,” Miller muttered. He dropped a heavy hand on Monty’s shoulder. “Shit’s going to hell fast. What side are you on?”

“Ours,” Monty answered quickly. “Lincoln’s.” 

“Then you’ll let me go,” Miller said. 

Monty still didn’t move. “Just–don’t get caught,” Monty said. “Octavia and Clarke are both gone now, and–”

“I’m not gonna get caught,” Miller cut him off. “We need someone on the inside if Bellamy’s going to keep acting like he doesn’t know who he is anymore.”

“And you’re offering yourself?” Monty asked, a hint of amusement to his voice. “Nathan Miller, undercover spy. Who would’ve thought?”

“Well _you’re_ not wearing a guard uniform, are you?” Miller shot back, surprised at the smile that took his face. “I’ll be back in an hour. If I’m not, well…” he cocked his shoulder in a shrug. “Get the hell out of Arkadia.”

“Not without you,” Monty responded. He side stepped, letting Miller’s arm fall back to his side. “Stay safe, Nate.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It isn’t _enough_!”

The force of Miller’s voice froze Monty where he was. He watched as Miller strode across the room, his long legs carrying him quickly as he paced. Monty slumped back in his seat after a moment of silence, nothing but Miller’s footsteps echoing in the room.

Monty had been hoping Raven would join them, or even Jasper at this point, but everyone was lining up to visit the City of Light and neither Monty or Miller could get through to their friends. 

“Nate,” Monty said tiredly before rubbing his forehead.

“I feel so fucking useless,” Miller muttered. Monty’d learned that Miller cussed a lot when he was frustrated. “At the dropship at least I could _do_  something. In Mount Weather… but, fuck.” Miller sighed loudly. “I fucking hate this. What I’m doing isn’t enough.”

“You’re giving Kane and Lincoln information where they have none,” Monty tried. “That’s more than I can do.” Monty watched as Miller balled his hands into fists before releasing them, stretching his fingers. “You get inside information from Pike that we can feed to Octavia. Nate–that’s _a lot_.” 

“It’s not _enough_ ,” Miller said again, his voice breaking off at the end.

Monty knew he needed to do something with his hands. Relaying information, that wasn’t enough for Miller, he needed to fight. Monty didn’t know what to say to help him. Their entire situation was crappy. Nothing was working out for anyone and it felt like he and Miller were the only two left.

“Hey,” Miller suddenly said, his voice sharp. “Don’t you put that shit in your mouth.”

Monty arched an eyebrow. “The City of Light key, thing?”

“Yeah. I don’t trust it.”

“Me neither,” Monty answered. “C’mon, I’m the genius here. You should’ve known I’d stay away from that.” Miller’s mouth didn’t even quirk at that. “Nate,” Monty said, motioning him over to a chair. “Sit down for a sec. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“We’re not Bellamy,” he muttered. “Or Clarke. Or anyone who can make a fucking difference.”

“You’re making me depressed,” Monty said. “So can you stop?” Miller groaned, lowering himself in the chair by Monty before dropping his head into his hands. “We’re gonna figure it out,” Monty repeated. “We’ll talk to Harper and Monroe and we’ll figure it out.” 

Maybe they weren’t Bellamy or Clarke, and maybe they weren’t making a huge difference, but at least it was _something._ Something small to keep Arkadia from crumbling down around them. And that was what mattered. 

Miller let out a long sigh, finally dropping his hands from his face. “Thanks, Monty,” he murmured. “I think I’d lose my mind if you weren’t with me on this.”

Monty couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face. “That makes two of us.”


	3. Chapter 3

Miller wasn’t even aware of Harper shouting his name, thick with desperation as she tried to get through to him. All he could focus on was the roaring in his ears, the weight in his stomach, the burning of his hands as he slammed his fist repeatedly into the wall. _Again, harder, again_.

And then he was on the ground, Monroe pinning his arms above his head as she sat on his chest to keep him down. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snarled, finally releasing his arms and pushing herself to stand. Miller blinked through his haze, turning to find Harper with her jaw open, Monty looking sad. “You need to calm down,” Monroe said again, her voice shaking slightly. 

Miller dropped his head backwards against the ground and squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles were throbbing from him hitting the wall. His mind was humming. He heard Monty murmur something and then Harper and Monroe shuffled from the room. Next thing Miller knew, Monty was on the ground beside him with a first aid kit.

“You don’t have to do that,” Miller muttered, still stretched out on the ground.

“Sit up,” Monty told him. Miller exhaled deeply before pushing himself to sit up, extending one of his hands to Monty so he could see the bloody mess of his knuckles. “Jesus,” Monty murmured. And then, “Talk.”

“I don’t want to.”

“ _Talk_ ,” Monty repeated a little more forcefully. “You’re the only insight we have. What happened?” But Miller didn’t want to talk about it. Not for a second. Using his guise as a guard for Pike was handy when it came to getting information, but he never expected that he’d have to… “ _Nate_ ,” Monty pleaded. “Talk to me. I know you all went out today. What happened?” 

Miller focused on his hands, watching Monty move his delicate fingers over his wounds as he cleaned them. One hand, and then the other. “We went to the Grounder village,” Miller forced out. “I had to…” he trailed off. What good was working undercover if he couldn’t change things in the end? Miller felt the darkness seeping into him as every moment passed. He swallowed, trying to get the lump out of his throat. “She couldn’t have been much younger than us,” Miller croaked.

He couldn’t say it. What he’d done. But the look on Monty’s face let Miller knew that he understood. 

It had happened so quickly. There was a gun in his hand, a girl pleading for her life, and Pike breathing down his neck ordering him to do it. _Kill her! She’s one of them!_

“You didn’t have a choice,” Monty said, his voice steady.

“Of course I did,” Miller snapped. He chose keeping his cover safe. He chose murdering an innocent girl. It wasn’t the first time he’d killed but the other times were different. He was fighting for his life then. This was _murder_. “God, I feel sick.”

Monty didn’t respond. There probably wasn’t anything he could’ve said to make Miller feel better anyway. But he didn’t flinch away from him, his eyes didn’t grow darker. He just worked on cleaning Miller’s hands before wrapping them with bandages. Finally when they were finished, still sitting next to one another on the floor, Monty looked up at him.

“We need you,” he said. “You can’t do _this_ ,” Monty added, gesturing to Miller’s hands. “Just talk to me next time. I know what it feels like. Okay?” 

Miller’s eyebrows came together as he tried to figure out what Monty meant, but then he understood. “That was different,” Miller told him. Mount Weather was different. What Monty did was different.

“Not really. Everyone’s still dead.” 

Miller let out a long breath before nodding his head. Monty was right. They needed to stick together on this. Monty pushed himself to his feet before extending his hand to Miller, pulling him up to stand too. This was just another battle in a bigger war.


	4. Chapter 4

“I think Bellamy’s suspicious.”

Miller let his words hang in the air so Harper, Monroe, and Monty could process them. It’d been two weeks since Pike had taken control, since Pike had taken a group of people out to wipe out an army of 300. Two weeks since Arkadia turned into a dictatorship. Two weeks since curfews were enforced, since Grounders were locked up and treated like animals.

“He’d never say anything,” Harper said quickly. Miller had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “He’s _Bellamy_.”

“You’ve seen him,” Monroe contested. “His head’s not screwed on right these days.”

“But he’s _Bellamy_ ,” Harper said again. “He’d never do anything to get you in trouble, Miller. Not with the way Pike’s been acting.”

Miller turned to look at Monty. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want the girls’ input, but Monty’s input was always more valuable to Miller. It felt more real to him. Monty was watching Harper and Monroe’s back and forth as though he himself was trying to figure out what to say. Finally he caught Miller’s eyes, and then Monty shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Monty admitted. “You’re still his right-hand. But if he suspects you’re relaying information…”

“Maybe he’s worried about Octavia,” Harper tried. Out of all of them, she was the one who struggled the most with Bellamy joining Pike’s side. After everything she still clung to the hope that he’d realize he was being an idiot and causing more harm than good. Miller had all but given up on that front. Bellamy was broken. Maybe beyond repair. “If you let him know you’re in contact—”

“No,” Monty cut her off sharply. “Miller may be Bellamy’s right-hand, but Bellamy’s still Pike’s. And until we know for _sure_ he’s on our side, he can’t know that we’re talking to Octavia.”

Miller sighed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I can’t go back tonight,” he said. “To Lincoln’s cell. It’s not my unit and if they see me there too often it’ll fuck everything up.”

The four of them sat quietly before Monty said, “I’ll go.”

Miller’s response was instantaneous. “No.”

Monroe rolled her eyes. “Why not?” she asked. “He can say he’s looking for some paneling, or something.”

“ _No_ ,” Miller said again. He pointed at Monty. “You’re not getting dragged into this.”

“He’s _offering_ ,” Monroe pressed.

“It’ll be quick,” Monty said. “In and out. Just to let him know that Octavia’s in Polis and Indra’s healing nicely.” Miller narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Why not?”

“There are a million fucking reasons why not,” Miller snapped. “You’re not getting dragged into this. Lincoln can go a night without an update.”  

“Could you?” Monty tossed back. Miller hissed through his teeth, rocking backwards in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “C’mon, Miller,” Monty said.

“If anything happens to you it’ll be my fault,” Miller forced out, trying to get Monty to understand why he was so reluctant. This was Miller's job, relaying information. It was his job because he had the uniform, because he was the least likely to get caught. So transferring the job to Monty for the night _wasn't safe_. Miller had enough blood on his hands, he didn’t want to add Monty to that list. Monty was too good, too smart, too _everything_ to risk. Who knew what would happen if Pike suspected he was sympathizing with the Grounders? Half of the guard was just _looking_ for ways to get into Pike’s good graces, and this would be a perfect reason. The room was thick with tension while Monroe and Harper stared at Miller, waiting for him to elaborate. “Fine,” Miller snapped. “But you come straight back here, do you understand?”

“Sure,” Monty said with a nod. “Thanks, Dad.”

“ _Monty_ ,” Miller hissed, despite the teasing smile on Monty’s face. But his smile didn’t waver. “This is dangerous,” he said again. “I need you to understand that this is dangerous.”

“I’m talking to Lincoln for five minutes,” Monty said, waving him off. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Miller didn’t even want to think about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops

Monty shifted the bag on his shoulder as he walked swiftly down the hallway. He knew that the best way to appear inconspicuous was to pretend that be belonged exactly where he was, but he was nervous. Monty didn’t like being nervous. He and Miller discussed the trip to Lincoln’s cell for what felt like hours before Miller finally allowed it. Not that Miller was in charge of Monty, but he _did_ have a better grip on the situation than Monty did. Truth be told, Monty probably would've gone regardless of Miller's opinion. But it was better to have it.

So down the hallway he went, careful not to draw too much attention to himself as he walked. There was only one guard around Lincoln and the other Grounders cell when Monty arrived and he looked bored out of his mind.

“Business?” the guard muttered. Someone from Alpha when stations were still a thing. His nametag read _Howard_.

“Here for parts,” Monty said, fishing around for the weird engineering ID that they’d started making him carry around. He showed it to the guard who barely glanced it, allowing Monty to pass without a second look. He let out a quiet breath. See? Easy. He was going to rub it in Miller’s face when he got back, how easy the Op had been. Miller was worried for nothing.

Monty moved to wall across from Lincoln’s cell and glanced over his shoulder, first at the guard but then at Lincoln who was peering at him through the screen. He tipped his head at Monty in recognition, a soft smile filling his face, before Monty nodded back. He got to work on the wall as he shot looks in the guard’s direction again and again.

“Don’t you get bored out here?” Monty asked. “They don’t seem to give you much trouble.”

Howard snorted. “No, they’re fine. Pike’s orders, though.” The guard looked Monty up and down once. “You’re one of those kids, yeah? From Mount Weather.”

Monty was glad he didn’t recognize him directly. That could’ve been bad. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Shit.” He let out a long whistle while Monty’s fingers methodically pulled useless wiring from the wall. “Must’ve been hell.” Monty shrugged. He didn’t like talking about Mount Weather. “Well—I mean, you’ve been on the ground a long time then.” Monty nodded, still working on the wall. “I’ve got to take a piss,” the guard said. “You mind?”

Monty swallowed thickly. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I don’t plan on letting them out.” If his voice shook, the guard didn’t notice. Howard tipped his head and strode away under the promise to return quickly.

Monty was just as fast. The second Howard was out of earshot Monty dug into his bag and pulled out the walkie-talkie, meeting Lincoln at the edge of his cell. Monty pulled open the small door and slipped the walkie in for Lincoln who quickly lifted it, looking completely grateful.

“Octavia?” Lincoln murmured into the walkie-talkie as he pressed down the button. “Are you there?”

There was static for a minute. “Lincoln? Is that you?”

A smile that was worth all of the danger bloomed on Lincoln’s face. “ _Octavia_ ,” he breathed again. Monty grinned back but made a motion with his hand. _We don’t have a lot of time_. “You’re in Polis? Safe?”

“I’m safe,” she said back. “I’m with Indra—she’s doing okay.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” Lincoln switched to Trigedasleng to say something else and Monty made another motion. It was a long sentence, fast, but Octavia repeated the tail end of whatever it was. The way Lincoln’s eyes fell shut made Monty think it was a declaration of love. Lincoln passed the walkie-talkie back to Monty who fiddled with it to keep it quiet. “Thank you. To know she’s okay and to hear her voice are so very different things. I cannot repay you.”

“Dude, you’re the one in a cell.” Lincoln laughed a little at that, still looking grateful. “We’re working on something,” Monty continued. “Hopefully it’ll get you—”

“Hey!” Howard was back. “What the hell are you—what’s _that_?” he shouted, gesturing to Monty’s hand. Monty's brain went into hyper drive. He dropped the walkie-talkie onto the ground with such force that it shattered instantly. “Who the fuck—what the fuck are you doing here, kid?”

“Parts,” Monty said quickly. But he was too close to the cell. And the walkie-talkie was bound to give away that he wasn’t doing anything good. “I swear. He asked me about mealtimes and—”

“It looked to me like you were catching up,” Howard hissed. It happened so fast Monty was surprised he could remember it piece by piece. His foot, crunching the walkie-talkie more than necessary, just in case. Shooting Lincoln a look that said _don’t say anything_. The zap of electricity shooting through his body from the guard's stick. And then it all went dark.

* * *

Miller returned to the hangar as fast as he could from his shift. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that something was wrong but he tried to pin it on the fact that something always felt wrong these days. His footsteps were loud as they echoed in the hallways. Monty was smart. He was a prodigy, a genius. He wouldn’t ruin this. And—fine. It _was_ a simple Op. In and out. Relaying information. Miller had done it dozens of times at this point without a hitch.

He pushed into the hangar and found Monroe and Harper sitting at the table, their eyes wide.

“Where’s Monty?” Harper asked, her voice shaking.

“Wh—he’s supposed to be here,” Miller said.

Monroe looked at Miller, her eyes growing dark. “We thought he was with you.”

Panic whistled through Miller faster than he’d known possible. “He’s not here?” Miller demanded. Harper and Monroe exchanged a worrisome look and if possible, Miller’s stomach dropped even more. Not again. Not again. Monty had to be okay. He had to be okay. “Well then where the hell is he?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this chapter is certainly longer than the others!
> 
> side note: this is not how I personally feel about Bellamy whatsoever, Miller's thoughts =/= my own, it's just his reaction to the stress and the current situation!

Miller could hardly focus as he, Monroe, and Harper crowded over the table as they planned their next move. They just wanted to know where Monty _was_. They didn’t have to break him out or anything, not yet, not until they knew what they were doing to him. His entire body was full of tense nerves as he watched Monroe circle all of the different holding locations on the map they’d gotten their hands on, any of which Monty could’ve been taken to.

Monroe was cool and collected as she explained the different guard rotations, making a list of sympathetic people who they could ask about Monty if they didn’t find anything without giving themselves away. But Miller couldn’t focus. _This was my fault_. It played on a loop in his head. _I never should’ve let him go. This was my fault_. _I never should’ve let him go_.

He was yanked from his thoughts when the heavy door to the hangar opened. All three of them spun to find Monty entering slowly, his footsteps hesitant. His gaze was on the ground, his left eye had bloomed a dark bruise. There was a cut on his forehead that looked like it might need stitches. Bellamy was walking behind him, his face a mask of neutrality.

Harper leapt from her seat and sprinted across the room to Monty, throwing her arms around him as she fought back sobs. Miller was frozen. Monty was here. _Monty is here_. Monty winced as Harper hugged him but still he hugged her back, his arms straining to hold their weight.

Monroe was the first to find her voice. “What happened?” she asked, the question directed to Bellamy.

“They just roughed him up a bit,” Bellamy responded.

Without even a second of silence Miller was flying from his seat in Bellamy’s direction. “You _son of a bitch!_ ” Before he could collide with Bellamy, his hand balled in a fist ready to swing, Monty untangled himself from Harper and stepped in the way with his hand up to block him, the force of him knocking Miller back before he could get any closer. “I swear to God I’ll fucking—”

“Nate,” Monty cut him off quietly. “Bellamy wasn’t there, he found me this morning.” Anger was red hot inside of Miller’s body. His teeth were clenched together as he struggled to breathe. Monty’s hand found Miller’s shoulder, closer to his neck. His touch was gentle. “He got me out. I’m okay.”

“Unclench,” Monroe called from the table. It took some effort but Miller’s fists returned to normal.

And then his attention was on nothing but Monty. He looked sad, broken, weak. Miller reached up carefully and cupped Monty’s cheek so he could tip his head and study the bruise. “What happened?” Miller asked, repeating Monroe’s question. Suddenly Monty’s lips quirked in a little smile, like he was proud of himself, and Miller’s chest bloomed with warmth at the sight of it. But he kept his voice stern. “No, Monty. You don’t get to get away with this.”

“Already did,” he said smugly.

“You did _not_ ,” Miller growled. “Look at you!”

“I’m fine,” Monty insisted. “Other than that small… hitch at the end, it was a complete success.” Miller grumbled and Monty’s hand stretched, spanning the space between Miller’s neck and his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. “I have to work on a new walkie. The other one got destroyed.”

Miller didn’t accept this half-assed attempt at an explanation. “What. _Happened_ ,” he demanded.

“Guard caught him talking to Lincoln,” Bellamy supplied from near the door. He’d been hanging back, his arms crossed over his chest. “What the hell have you four been up to?” His eyes darted to Miller. “You should know better than this!”

“You should go _float_ yourself,” Miller snapped back. “We wouldn’t have to be up to anything if you weren’t being such a fucking idiot.” Bellamy’s face flickered with hurt for a moment but Miller couldn’t find it in himself to care. He pulled himself away from Monty and started toward Bellamy again. “You’ve got no right to walk in here like you haven’t been gone for the past few weeks,” Miller carried on, his voice laced with anger. “You left us, not the other way around.”

“Nate,” Monty tried, his voice soft as he pleaded. “Bellamy got me out, okay?”

“Here, come here,” Harper said, motioning to Monty as she tried to pull him from the argument. “Let me clean up some of your wounds.” Monty gave Miller a sympathetic look as he crossed the room to Harper where she’d found their stashed first aid kid.

Miller swung back around to Bellamy dropping his voice. “You getting him out is not enough,” Miller hissed. _I don’t trust you_ , he wanted to say. But he wasn’t sure he could take the broken look on Bellamy’s face that would’ve followed. Miller wasn’t sure it was true, either. “You’re with Pike, it’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not _simple_ at all,” Bellamy tossed back. “You think I like what’s happening in Arkadia?”

“Sure looks like it.”

Bellamy huffed. “You’ve got no clue how hard I’m working to keep things from getting worse,” he said to Miller. “The only way I can make _any_ sort of difference is by staying in his inside group.” Miller rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. “What do you _want_ from me, Miller? I’m doing what I can!”

“I just don’t believe you.”

Bellamy’s shoulders slumped a bit. “You think this is what I wanted?” Bellamy asked quietly, his eyes darting to Monty. “You think I wanted any of you to get hurt?”

“I don’t know what you want at this point,” Miller hissed. “Because it feels like you want a war.” Bellamy slumped again, his eyes darting elsewhere. “And this?” Miller asked, gesturing to Monty. “Just another consequence of the choices you and Pike are making.” 

“If I’m not in his inside circle,” Bellamy started, dropping his voice again, “working to try and get him to potentially take a deal with the Coalition, then who’s going to do it?” he asked. Miller’s eyes darted back to Monty, watching him wince as Harper dabbed at the cut on his forehead. “It’s not a lot,” Bellamy admitted, “but it’s _something_.”

“So _now_ you want a deal with the Coalition?”

“I don’t want a war,” Bellamy grit out. “We went too far with the massacre, and it keeps getting worse.” Miller suppressed a shudder, thinking back to when he was forced into the Grounder village, forced to kill innocents. “I know I’ve made mistakes,” Bellamy carried on. “I’m trying to fix it in the only way I know how.” Miller felt some of the tension begin to seep from him. The desperation in Bellamy’s voice, the hint of sadness, it felt real. He didn’t know how to respond to Bellamy, let alone look him in the eye. The two fell silent. “If Pike suspects I’m working with Kane or even the people in the Coalition then I’m as good as dead. So I’m not. But I’m still trying.” Bellamy hesitates a second. “But you are? Working with Kane?”

“I’m not answering that,” Miller muttered. Because he wants to believe Bellamy, he just doesn’t know if he can. For all he knew, Bellamy could turn around in a second. Take Miller and Monty and Harper and Monroe's names back to Pike. Allow them to be used as an example. Maybe Bellamy was wire-tapped right now. 

“I want to help,” Bellamy said. “Let me help.” Miller was still clenching his teeth together. “ _Miller_.”

“I don’t know,” was his answer. Because he didn’t. What he wouldn’t give to work with Bellamy again, to discuss strategy like old times. But after the choices that he’s made recently… “I just don’t know.” He needed time to think about it. He needed to talk to Monty. “Thanks for getting Monty out,” he said.

Bellamy sighed another time. He looked so tired. “This is on me,” he murmured, his eyes darting to Monty again who was now squeezing Harper’s hand tightly as Monroe finished cleaning another one of his cuts. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

Miller barked out a dry laugh. “Monty getting hurt? That’s on me. Stop trying to throw yourself a fucking pity party.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows came together. “What?”

“I knew it was too dangerous to let him go,” Miller muttered, “and I let him go anyway. He was doing my job, and he got caught. Now he’s in even more danger even outside of a holding cell because he did something that _I_ was supposed to do.” Bellamy looked surprised to hear Miller say this, his voice low and strained. God, it would be so easy to let Bellamy take the blame. To push the blame onto him. And maybe in the grand scheme of things Bellamy did have a hand in Monty getting hurt. But the direct cause, that was all on Miller. “He’s got a goddamn target on his back now.”

Bellamy was quiet for a moment. “Is there something…” he started, but stopped, his eyes flickering where Monroe and Harper were tending to Monty at the table. “Is there something going on? With you and Monty?”

Miller’s eyebrows came together as he spun back to look at Bellamy. “What do you mean?”

“I saw your face when he walked in,” Bellamy said. “The way you came after me…” Bellamy trailed off again, shrugging slightly. Miller ignored the sudden tightness in his chest. What the hell was Bellamy talking about? “Never mind,” he murmured. “It’s not—he’ll be okay. From what I hear he stayed tight lipped. He had his ID so he had a valid reason to be near Lincoln’s cell, he stuck to the same story when they questioned him. And Hannah’s in with Pike so it would make sense for Monty to seemingly side with him too.” Bellamy took another step back. “I’ve got a meeting to get to,” he said. “Find me later?”

“I’ll think about it,” Miller muttered.

Bellamy didn’t seem to like this answer but he nodded anyway. His eyes flickered to Monty another time before he stepped backwards from the room, leaving the four delinquents alone again.

Once the door clicked shut Miller’s eyes found Monty once more. What else did they _do_ to him in there? _They just roughed him up a bit_. Monty wasn’t even floating-age yet and they were still so harsh with him? Miller wanted to scream. His heart felt heavy and his throat felt dry. He slowly walked over to the table and took a seat, watching as Monroe finished dressing the wounds that could be dressed.

“What’d they do to you?” Miller asked.

Monty looked past Monroe to where Miller was, shaking his head slightly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Miller said.

“Miller…”

“Just _tell_ me,” he nearly pleaded. “Don’t make me guess.” Because his mind had gone somewhere dark. “The used the baton,” he said. They electrocuted him. Monty hesitated before tipping his head into a nod. Miller swallowed a growl and rubbed his forehead. “Obviously they hit you,” he muttered, and Monty nodded again.

“They just pushed me around a bit,” Monty said, but the tone of his voice made it sound like a lie. “And asked me questions. And then they put me in the holding cell for the night. That’s it.”

 _But to what extent_ , Miller wanted to press. Monty had bruises and cuts, a little more than just being _pushed around_. And yet there was a finality in Monty’s voice that got Miller to keep from digging.

“No more,” Miller said. “You’re done acting like a spy. The three of us,” Miller said, meaning he, Harper, and Monroe, “can alternate to get Lincoln information. Someone’s got to tell him that Monty’s okay, he’s probably worried out of his fucking mind.”

“I’ll go,” Monroe said, standing. “And Harp, you’re on duty soon,” she reminded the girl. Harper looked hesitant, but soon she and Monroe were leaving after saying their goodbyes to Monty.

The second the door was shut the energy seemed to seep out of Monty. “Harper worries too much,” he murmured, noticing Miller’s eyes widen. “I’m really okay, Nate.”

Miller watched him for a moment before reaching out for Monty’s hand. “You scared the hell out of me,” he choked. “He could’ve had you killed.” Monty squeezed his hand back and Miller clenched his teeth to keep himself from breaking down. “Don’t you do anything like that again. I can’t _do_ this without you, Monty.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Monty said back, his voice just as soft. “I got to watch Lincoln hear Octavia’s voice for the first time in weeks,” he told Miller. “The look on his face—that was worth it.”

Miller had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Was it?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Monty insisted. Miller squeezed his hand another time, needing to touch him, needing to know that he was really here. “I’m not going anywhere,” Monty said again. “I’m sorry that you were worried,” he said. “I guess I’m not as sneaky as I thought.”

Despite himself, Miller’s mouth pulled into a smile. “I guess not,” he murmured back. But as long as he was alive, Miller didn’t quite care how sneaky Monty was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again about Bellamy - Monty's gonna have a chat with Miller next chapter about the situation to ease things up. 
> 
> #protectBellamy2k16


	7. Chapter 7

Monty dropped the walkie-talkie in his hand with a short breath before squeezing his eyes shut tightly. His insides were humming. Any time he got too close to wires his fingers twitched and he panicked, having to step away for a minute. As he set the walkie down and lowered his head into his hands, Miller from across the room seemed to take notice.

 _Focus_ , Monty scolded himself. He didn’t need Miller to worry about him like Harper was. He didn’t need Miller thinking that he was broken. He quickly reached for the walkie-talkie again without sparing Miller a glance just in case he was watching.

But fear was jostling around Monty’s veins and he couldn’t do it, so he set the walkie-talkie down again. “You okay?” Miller called from across the hangar, quickly crossing the room so he could take the stool beside Monty.

“I’m fine,” Monty said. Because he had to be. He had to be fine. He had to fix the walkie. He had to do it despite the nerves that were coiled tight inside of him.

“Monroe said you made contact with Clarke last night,” Miller said as he settled down, reaching out for the walkie.

“Frequency keeps going in and out,” Monty told him. “I explained that it was broken and might be a few days until we get a solid signal.” It should take _less_ than a few days, but Monty couldn’t stand to be around the electronics for too long. He was so frustrated. It was the right thing to do, smash the walkie-talkie just in case, but he didn’t anticipate fixing it would make him feel like it did. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Miller fiddled with the walkie for a minute before looking at him. “Did you tell Clarke?” he asked. Monty kept his eyes on the table, not looking in his friend’s direction. “About what happened to you?”

“Unnecessary.”

Miller rolled his eyes. “She should know. She’s your friend.”

“She has more important friends than me,” Monty said. Because it was true. When Clarke left all those months ago it was clear that she was destined for bigger and better things, bigger and better people. She’d been the one awarded the title of _Wanheda_ after all. If Octavia was to be believed, Clarke was cozying up with Commander Lexa. Monty was probably nothing but a blip in Clarke’s thoughts. “Besides, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“She should still know.”

It had been a few days since Bellamy found Monty in the holding cell. His eye wasn’t as bruised anymore and most of his cuts and scrapes had healed, but something else lingered. When Miller reached out for him Monty jerked away, letting out a short breath of air. He hadn’t been completely honest when he told Miller what had happened.

“Sorry,” Monty said. Miller shook his head slightly. God, he wanted to grab Miller's hand. What he wouldn't _give_ for that reassuring touch. For something more. 

But Monty felt twitchy. Constantly twitchy. And he didn’t say it, but he thought Miller knew anyway what had happened behind that closed door. He should’ve been able to figure it out by the way Monty recoiled from the things that once helped him ease of nerves. _Electricity_. The chance of a spark. Suddenly it terrified him.

Miller was surprisingly good at reading people, so Monty wasn’t completely thrown off when he cleared his throat. “They used shocks on you,” he said simply, his voice even. “Didn’t they?” Monty didn’t respond. Because he didn’t have to confirm what Miller already knew. “They _did_ torture you for answers.”

“It could’ve been worse,” Monty tried.

Miller scoffed. “Don’t pull that shit with me. Torture is torture.” With a huff Miller stood, dropping the walkie-talkie on the table and stepping away so he could pace. “Fuck, Monty.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he insisted.

“You’re not fine!” Miller snapped. “If you can’t fix a walkie-talkie then you’re not _fine_ , Monty!” Monty looked down at his hands and tried to ignore the dread sweeping through him. He tried to conjure that feeling, the one that burst through him when Lincoln smiled at the sound of Octavia’s voice. Or even the feeling that burst in Monty's chest when Miller looked at him when they were alone. But with each passing day it got harder to do, just as it got harder to work with electronics. “That’s it then?” Miller carried on as he paced. “That’s what you wouldn’t tell me?”

“Wasn’t necessary.”

“ _Monty_.” Frustration was thick in Miller’s throat. It was clear he wanted to talk about it, to know the details, but Monty just couldn’t _do_ that. He had to box it up and hide it somewhere deep in his mind. He needed to get over it, the accusation in the guards’ voices as they pressed the button that sent shocks through his system. The aching in his muscles long after they were done. The feeling that everything was going to shock him if he made one wrong move. He couldn't let Miller know how that felt, especially not if he blamed himself. “How can I help?” Miller asked.

He couldn’t.

“I just don’t want to talk about it,” Monty said. He had to change the subject. Monty pulled his eyes away from the walkie-talkie and focused on Miller instead. “Have you talked to Bellamy?”

Bellamy was something that _Miller_ didn’t want to talk about. Miller stopped pacing at once, turning back to Monty with a frown. “No,” he answered. “Have you?”

“Yeah, I have.” Their eyes met for a long minute before Monty said, “You should talk to him.”

“I don’t want to.”

It was Monty’s turn to be frustrated. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “If Bellamy had to choose between us and Pike, you _know_ that he’d choose us. Nate you should’ve seen his face when he found me in that holding cell!” Miller finally turned away, shaking his head as well. “We’ve all made mistakes!”

“But we didn’t side with a fucking dictator!” Miller shot back. Monty sighed, sinking backwards in his chair. “What Pike’s doing—it’s not…”

“How would you feel?” Monty asked as Miller trailed off. “If Bryan had been in Mount Weather when it blew?” Miller visibly froze. Monty knew they’d broken up since but at the time… “You would’ve been angry, Nate. I know you.”

Miller clenched his teeth and turned back. “I still wouldn’t have joined him,” he forced out.

“Bellamy lost Gina. And after what he did in Mount Weather the first time, and losing Clarke…” Monty trailed off, desperate for Miller to understand. “He wants to make things right. And honestly he’s close enough with Pike that he _could_ make a difference. We just have to let him in.”

Miller let out a sharp breath that eased into a sigh. His shoulders slumped slightly and he walked back over to take the seat in the stool next to Monty. He was quiet for a moment before looking at Monty. There was confliction in his gaze. “I don’t know if I trust him,” Miller admitted in a strangled voice.

“He’s your best friend,” Monty reminded him.

“He _was_ ,” Miller said with a nod. “But after everything…”

“He will _always_ choose us,” Monty said again. “You know that’s true.” Miller swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Nate,” Monty said softly. “Do you trust _me_?”

The air in the room seemed to shift as Miller edged closer to him. His eyes were still dark but there was something else there too, something that Monty was slightly scared to think about. Something he wanted to badly he couldn't dare hope for it. Miller’s eyes dropped to Monty’s mouth before darting back up.

“Of course I trust you,” Miller finally answered, his voice just as soft.

Why were they whispering? “I trust Bellamy,” Monty told him. “And if you trust _me_ …”

“I know where you’re going with this,” Miller murmured. Still quiet. Like they were sharing secrets. “And I want to. But I can’t risk any of us getting hurt.” Miller licked his lips. “Especially you.” He blinked, his eyes growing darker. “Monty, when we couldn’t find you, I…” Miller’s eyebrows came together as though he was in pain. “And knowing what they _did_ to you—”

“Hey, I’m _okay_ , Nate.”

Miller licked his lips again, and Monty couldn’t pull his eyes from the action. “I shouldn’t have let you go,” Miller exhaled.

“I would’ve anyway.”

“I know,” Miller admitted with a soft laugh.

“Me getting taken—that wasn’t your fault.” Monty'd said it a dozen times now, and he'd say it a dozen more until he understood. 

“It feels like it.”

“It _wasn’t_ ,” Monty said firmly. He reached out—they were so close now—and cupped Miller’s cheek. “Nate,” he started, but as he leaned in Miller did too, allowing their lips to brush.

Monty froze, overwhelmed with the warmth of Miller’s mouth, but he didn’t drop his hand. In fact his fingers curled slightly and he tipped Miller’s chin back to give him a better angle. And then he was kissing him back, carefully, slowly. Monty’s mind was swimming. He felt Miller’s hands lift, one sliding behind his neck into his hair, the other one on his shoulder. Monty tried to focus on something (Miller’s lips were soft, Miller’s hands were gentle, Miller’s mouth was warm, Miller’s breath was warmer) but nothing was sticking. The only thought that pushed through was _this is happening and I don’t want it to stop_. The angle was still awkward with both of them on stools as they leaned across to reach one another and somehow they ended up on their feet. Monty’s hands became desperate, tugging and pulling Miller toward him. Miller tugged Monty too, guiding him so his hips were back against the worktable. Once Monty’s hands slipped under Miller’s shirt, Miller pulled back.

There was a question in his eyes, and clearly a question on the tip of his tongue, but instead Monty yanked him toward him and whined, “ _No_.” There was a flash of Miller grinning before they were kissing again. Miller covered Monty with his body as he tangled his fingers in Monty’s hair. Miller’s scruff brushed against Monty’s throat as Miller kissed his way down. Monty’s fingers hooked through Miller’s belt loops and he sighed as Miller nosed his collarbone.

“Never again,” Miller exhaled against Monty’s skin. “ _Never again_.” Monty released his hold on his jeans and cupped Miller’s cheeks, pulling him up so he could kiss him full on the mouth. Miller’s eyes were dark as he pulled back again, resting his forehead against Monty’s while his hands lifted to cup his cheeks as well. His thumb brushed across Monty’s chin gently. “Can’t lose you,” Miller murmured.

“You won’t,” Monty swore. Miller dipped, kissing him again, gently, quickly. Monty’s hands were still on his cheeks and he held him a little tighter then. “I’m not going anywhere,” Monty told him.

Miller nodded slightly and licked his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Monty echoed. Miller’s lips quirked into a soft smile that spread into a grin and Monty found himself grinning as well. “What did we just…” Monty trailed off with a soft laugh as Miller tipped his chin back slightly. “ _Nate,_ ” he exhaled deeply.

“ _Monty_ ,” he breathed back. Miller kissed him again and Monty felt his knees wobble. “God. Fuck.” An airy laugh escaped Monty as Miller pinned his forehead to his again. “Okay?”

Monty licked his lips. “Yeah.” Better than okay. The humming under his skin was all but forgotten as Miller looked at him like this. “You?”

Miller looked like he was going to kiss Monty another time but instead he just nodded. “I’ll talk to Bellamy,” he said softly. Miller took a big step backwards, pulling himself away completely from Monty. Like if he didn’t get far enough he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing him again, and again, and again. “Don’t get into any trouble now, alright?” Miller asked as he gathered himself together and started for the door.

Being with Miller, kissing him like that, it felt like a _lot_ of trouble. “No promises,” Monty called. Miller rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile on his face. Miller left saying he’d be back soon and Monty sat back down to work on the walkie-talkie.

He didn’t once think of electric shocks, too distracted by something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *singing* we could've had it allllllll


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all a clip of Miller working with Kane came out today and I am THRIVING.

Monty was in the hangar when Jasper found him. He was busy working on a frequency booster for the walkie-talkie he’d just fixed and was thinking about how much _easier_ it would be with Raven’s help if she wasn’t off in the City of Light when he heard the footsteps. He looked up to find Jasper in the doorway, and the smile that crossed his friend’s face was so magnificent that Monty felt his heart leap into his throat.

It’d been so long since he’d talked to Jasper. After that night at the dropship it was just so _hard_ , and then after that he was gone to the City of Light like so many others and it was impossible to even get a hold of him. Monty knew he should’ve tried harder but at the same time trying just meant failing, and he was so tired of failing.

“Hey,” Jasper said brightly. Like his old-self. Monty’s chest clenched and his throat ran dry. “There you are.”

“Jasper,” Monty said, and Jasper strode into the room. He was so _bright_. Like the loveable, goofy, tries-to-hard boy that Monty remembered as his best friend. “Hey,” he said back.

Because for a moment, he forgot that Jasper was somewhere else. That his mind was somewhere else. “I know I haven’t been around a lot lately,” Jasper said as he lowered himself to the stool across from Monty. “But I’ve missed you, I thought I’d come see how you’re doing?” Monty couldn’t even find the words to answer him. The look on Jasper’s face was so real, so _sincere_ , Monty felt as though he was in the middle of a dream. His thoughts were coming in waves, rolling off one another, absorbing the boy before him. “Monty?” Jasper asked with a little laugh.

“Sorry,” Monty blurted. “Hey. Hi. I’m—I’ve been okay.” He wanted to reach out more than anything, to touch Jasper’s hand to make sure he was real. “I’ve missed you too.” He hesitated before adding, “You seem so…”

Jasper laughed, his face stretching into another grin. “Yeah. That’s ALIE. That’s what she does.” Jasper patted his chest as though he was looking for something, his hands traveling down his body until he stopped at his pocket. “I’ve brought you a key,” he said. “For the City of Light.” Monty crashed out of his dreamlike state in an instant, looking down at the frequency booster in his hand. “Hey, I know,” Jasper said gently, his voice taking on that careful tone he used to use when he knew Monty was upset. Jasper had always been good at reading him. “I know you think it’s crazy, but Monty _it’s not_.”

Jasper set the key on the table and Monty’s eyes flickered to it. “It’s not right,” Monty said to him.

He watched as Jasper’s mouth dipped into a soft frown, one of disappointment. “How can it be wrong?” Jasper asked. “I feel like I can _breathe_ again, Monty. When Maya… it felt like someone had speared me through the chest.” Monty pressed his lips together, his eyes still studying the key. “And now I can breathe again. And I miss my best friend.”

“I miss you too,” Monty said another time. “But I—I don’t need to do _that_ to be around you, Jasper.

Jasper’s lips quirked again. “We always used to share our highs, man. What happened to that?”

“So it’s a high?” Monty pressed, trying to understand the concept behind it. He only really ever got bits and pieces. He’d heard _Artificial Intelligence_ passed around at some point but there was no proof of that, despite the intensity of Jaha’s battery pack that he carried around. It just looked people were getting high. Maybe hallucinating.

“In a way,” Jasper said. “It’s—I can’t explain it. You have to see it for yourself.” Jasper looked down at the key before nudging it in Monty’s direction. “I want you to see it,” Jasper said. “Just _imagine_ , Monty. All the pain you’ve ever felt… gone.” Monty’s fingers twitched, his mind thinking back to the holding cell. The night replayed itself almost daily, the shocks they gave him, the first to his face. And then deeper pains seemed to leech out of him. His father’s death. What he did in Mount Weather. Losing Clarke. Monty felt like someone was forcing him underwater. “Come find me if you do,” Jasper said as he pushed himself to stand. “I know I was hard on you,” he added. “But this makes it better.”

* * *

Miller strode into the hangar trying not to feel smug. He’d seen Harper and Monroe heading to duty right after he got off so he didn’t have to worry about them being there which was  _great_ because Miller had spent the past six hours working thinking about Monty’s mouth and all the attention he wanted to give it. He certainly couldn’t do that with Harper and Monroe there. He strode in and found Monty tinkering with  _something_ and warmth bloomed in Miller’s chest. A few days ago he was still pretty twitchy around technology but he was getting back into it and that made him smile.

How could Bellamy have seen it before Miller did? The way he felt?

Well, Miller supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He’d always cared for Monty more than the others, whether he voiced that or not. And when Monty was _taken_ … it just pushed his feelings up a bit. It might not’ve been the best time in the world for kissing, but Miller couldn’t give a shit about that. All he wanted to _do_ was kiss. To learn Monty’s mouth. His sighs. The feel of his hands.

He crossed the hangar quietly as Monty worked before circling around him, resting his hands gently on Monty’s shoulders. By the way he didn’t jump Miller knew Monty had seen him enter. “Hey,” Miller said softly.

He looked over his shoulder with a small smile before returning, “Hey yourself.”

“What’ve you been up to?” Miller asked, sliding his hands down Monty’s shoulders. They hadn’t exactly _talked_ about what they were _exactly_ , because who had time for that? Miller wasn’t looking anywhere else and he had a feeling Monty wasn’t either. At this point, Miller wasn’t sure he trusted anyone more than Monty. The stool Monty was sitting on was high enough that Miller didn’t have to bend down too much as he dipped in, nosing at Monty’s neck. “Just work stuff?”

“Work stuff,” Monty confirmed. Miller pressed a kiss to the spot below Monty’s ear, reveling in this way his breath hitched. “I can’t get a grip on this booster,” Monty continued, his voice slightly higher. “I wish I had Raven’s input it’d be so much easier.”

“Mm.” Miller kissed his throat then, below his jaw. “You’ll get it,” he murmured.

“So encouraging,” Monty hummed. Miller couldn’t fight the grin on his face as he kissed Monty’s throat another time. Monty swiveled in his seat then to face Miller. “It’s been a long day,” Monty told him.

His eyes were dark and they lingered on the way Miller licked his lips before Monty tipped his chin back, inviting. Miller smiled into this kiss too, reaching up to cup Monty’s cheek. He took a step toward Monty to wedge himself between his hips as his other hand traveled to Monty’s hip, needing to keep him close on all accounts. There was a war on the way and all Miller wanted to do was feel _this_. This yellow happiness that came from being close to Monty, that overwhelmed every inch of him until his fingers were curling and his breath was shaking.

“Mmf,” Miller swallowed a groan as Monty’s cool hands slipped around his hips, untucking his shirt from his pants so he could slide up his back.

“Nate,” Monty tugged back, tipping his head so their foreheads collided. Miller took a moment to breathe. He shut his eyes as one of Monty’s hands returned to his side. “I need you to do something for me,” Monty said softly.

 _Anything_ , he wanted to say back. Because in this moment it felt like that. Like Miller would willingly do anything for the boy in his hands. “What is it?” he asked.

Monty’s hand moved until it covered Miller’s, the one against his hip, and then twisted it as he forced Miller’s fingers open and placed something in his palm. Miller’s eyes opened and he pulled back slightly, lifting his hand to see what Monty had given him. Monty rocked backwards as Miller’s eyes widened.

_The key to the City of Light._

“Keep that away from me,” Monty pleaded. Miller’s hand fell from Monty’s cheek as he stood up straighter and both of Monty’s hands returned to his lap before he covered his face as though he was ashamed. “Jasper was here today,” Monty forced out, his voice shaking. “And he gave that to me and I—Nate, I want to take it.” Miller’s hand curled into a fist around the key as he took a step back. Monty’s face crumbled. “He seemed—he seemed like _himself_ ,” he carried on weakly. “He said he wasn’t hurting and—what I wouldn’t _give_ …”

Miller forced the key into his pocket before stepping back in Monty’s direction, both of his hands on his cheeks again. “Hey, hey,” Miller said softly. “It’s okay.”

“ _I want to take it_ ,” Monty repeated, his voice giving out at the end. “Don’t let me.”

“Never.”

He looked up at Miller with sad eyes. “I miss my dad,” Monty croaked. “And I miss Clarke. And I miss Jasper. And I miss how it used to be, before everyone was dead, before I had a hand in a _massacre_.”

“Monty,” Miller murmured. “It’s _okay_ ,” he said again. Monty reached out and wrapped his arms around Miller’s waist which was easy to do considering he was still sitting on the stool and tugged Miller toward him. Miller’s arms moved to circle around him and hold him too. He felt warm tears leaking through his shirt as Monty shook. “It’s okay,” Miller said again, one of his hands lifting to cup the back of Monty’s head. “It’s okay.” It was the only thing he could think to say, the only thing filtering through his mind.

Just a few weeks ago Monty had been so sure. _I’m the genius here_ , he’d said. _You should’ve known I’d stay away from that_. And now here he was begging Miller to keep it away from him.

Miller bent down and pressed his lips to the crown of Monty’s head, wishing there was something else he could do besides hold him.

“Don’t let me,” Monty kept saying, his voice ragged and weak and muffled from Miller’s shirt. 

“Never,” Miller said again. 


End file.
